The Long and Winding Road
by Clover Bay
Summary: The Long and Winding Road, that leads me to your door . . . War and peace, love and loss . . Hermione's return to wizarding Britain has been marred by both. More than three years since travelling to Australia to find her parents, she comes back to the Burrow with her young son. For Hermione, she seeks to reconnect with her old life and find happiness once more.
1. Return to the Burrow

**The Long and Winding Road**

**by Clover Bay**

_Summary: War and peace, love and loss . . Hermione's return to wizarding Britain has been marred by both. More than three years since travelling to Australia to find her parents, she comes back to the Burrow with her young son. For Hermione, she seeks to reconnect with her old life and find happiness once more._

_Disclaimer: All characters and setting references belong to JK Rowling. No infringement is intended._

**Chapter 1 - Return to the Burrow**

The curving gravel road in the rural country-side that led to an equally topsy-turvy house, ironically enough, described Hermione's feelings upon returning to her favorite wizarding home in all of Britain. For the better part of the last four years, she journeyed half a world away to retrieve her parents from the Australian life she imposed on them when it was no longer safe in London. At least that's what she led the Weasleys and Harry to believe when she made time to write them. Certain information was too important, too sensitive, and well, too personal to simply list on a piece of parchment.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley held a special place in Hermione's heart, and that, perhaps, made today's return to the Burrow all the more unnerving; they never failed to treat her as one of their own children when she had stayed in their home as a school girl. The summers she spent visiting Ron, Ginny, and Harry revealed even more of the quirkiness, squabbling, and loving family than could ever be described by Ron's stories or the numerous howlers the twins received in school. It was the war that cemented this family as an extension of her own; she caught glimpses of Molly as a woman trying to care for her family while still struggling with the losses of war. Hermione saw an inner strength in this woman that superceded the image she'd previously known as simply Ron's mum.

Hermione was nervous about returning to the Burrow this afternoon; her omission of so many vital changes in her life twisted her heart, making her feel as though she had somehow betrayed her second family. But, she had managed the best she could at the time. It was that thought that helped to strengthen her resolve and assure her that, somehow, the Weasleys could sympathize with her circumstances and not judge her too harshly.

As the final turn in the road approached, her gait began to slow until her pauses between steps were longer than the small steps she managed to take. Her feet felt heavy, as if the secrets she'd been carrying for so long had somehow materialized into a physical weight that was holding her still, rooted to the ground. Hermione hoped they understood; she had to believe that they would still be accepting of her despite the things she'd withheld from them.

The toddler in Hermione's arms began to squirm as he craned his neck to see what had caused her to stop walking. Letting him down gently, Hermione took his tiny hand in hers, giving him a kind, reassuring smile that offered much more comfort than she truly felt. The three-year old grinned at her, having forgotten his earlier restlessness.

When the house came into sight, he started pointing excitedly with the hand that wasn't being securely held by Hermione. "Mummy!" he said in a wondrous tone. The Burrow's crooked shape looked more like one of the small boy's creations when he and grandpa Granger piled his blocks high only to knock them down again.

"We're almost there, sweetie. Do you remember what I told you this morning?"

Nodding, he recited as much of her earlier description as he could. "Bu'ow. We go to see Chaw-ly's family."

"And . . ." she prompted.

"And mummy's friends."

At her smile, he started skipping and hopping while still holding her hand. Hermione laughed as her son congratulated himself on getting the answer right.

"Yes, this is the Burrow," she enunciated clearly for him, "and we are going to see the Weasleys."

**OoOoOoO**

The cheery yellow kitchen curtains had faded, worn spots in the middle two panels from being pulled aside to look into the back yard so many times over the years. Molly's anxious fingers had moved the curtains no fewer than three times in the last half-hour. The most recent letter she received from Hermione hinted that she would be visiting sometime this weekend; as it was Sunday, that left little room for error as Molly gently tugged the curtains again.

Since the end of the second great war against Voldemort, Molly attempted to keep her family close either by having dinners prepared for them or remaining in contact through letters, as was the case with Charlie who insisted on returning to Romania and resuming his career.

She had been surprised when Hermione began to write; she bore witness to countless owls that navigated their way to the Burrow, some of which came from Hermione and were addressed to the boys and Ginny. But, about a year after Hermione left, letters began arriving directed to her, even when there were no others for her children. It warmed her heart to be remembered, so much so that Molly replied quickly. Their correspondence, she noticed, continued much more frequently than did any of the others, though they weren't often enough to keep her from worrying about Hermione and her parents. Maybe it was because of the letters rather than verbal conversations, but Hermione sounded much more mature, older perhaps, than the girl who departed those months ago to find her parents.

Reaching for the curtains, again, Molly gasped at the sight of the young woman approaching the Burrow. Attached to her outstretched arm was a small boy with dark brown hair, hair so dark it almost looked black. He was swinging Hermione's arm while singing a song that she couldn't decipher.

In all of the letters that had been exchanged, there had never been so much as a mention of a child. It tugged at Molly's heart that Hermione had kept this from them; mustering as much optimism as she could, Molly took solace in the knowledge that Hermione chose to bring the boy on this, her first trip back to the Burrow.

She couldn't help but search to find some semblance of her son in his small face. The little boy, though, looked nothing like any of her own sons; but Hermione's dark hair could easily have been passed on to her child. Molly squinted as the two grew closer to the Burrow. Another thought quickly passed through her mind before she dissuaded herself. No. Absolutely not. It could not be his child; he and Ginny had been inseparable for so long.

As she was processing the sight of Hermione approaching the Burrow, a knock sounded on the back door followed by a softer tapping at a lower point on the door.

Molly pulled Hermione into a strong hug, gently scolding her for knocking. "Family is always welcome, without needing to be announced." She sniffled and continued, "And you, dear, have been family for years."

Hermione wiped her watery eyes as she stepped back and smiled at the sight of the matriarch of her favorite family in the wizarding world. "I've missed you, too," she chuckled as her voice regained its strength.

"And who is this young man?"

"This," Hermione knelt, putting her hand on his slender shoulder, "is my son, Alex." She and Alex shared a grin that reassured Hermione that he was comfortable so far. "Alex, this is Mrs. Weasley."

Molly pulled the small boy into a hug just as they heard the loud commotion of the others streaming into the house from the door closest to the orchard. The weekend quidditch match must have just ended and at any moment the kitchen would be filled with Weasleys and Harry.

"Hermione!" Ron's unmistakable voice reverberated through the room. Six red-haired and smiling faces moved en-mass toward her before stopping at the sight of Alex. Ron's face, always so expressive, showed his surprise and confusion that left him with eyes wide open, head tilting slightly to the side. It was a sign of his increased maturity that he didn't blurt out the question that was so obviously fighting to be asked.

The absence of noise from the boisterous group made the room feel even more quiet than it had been when Hermione and Alex first arrived. Alex closed the gap between him and his mum, wrapping his hand around Hermione's leg and leaning into it.

"Ron," Hermione began and took a half step forward but didn't want to dislodge Alex. With her arm outstretched, Ron closed the gap, and his mouth. His movement seemed to awaken the others who looked as though they were unfrozen. One after another they embraced Hermione tightly. Ron and Harry held onto their newly returned friend the longest, whispering their relief at finally seeing her after so long.

After Fred and George squished Hermione and a giggling Alex into their second sandwich hug, Molly shooed them all into the living room while she went to find Arthur and prepare tea.

An awkward silence followed the group, broken only by the soft chatter of Alex as he tried his best to reach the pictures and, in his eyes, the undiscovered treasures located high above him on the fireplace mantle. Not knowing where to begin, Bill broke the ice by asking about Hermione's parents.

Before forming an answer, Hermione's thoughts drifted to those early days after the war.

_A few weeks after she arrived in Australia Hermione found her mum and dad, easily reversing the memory block she cast. To say that they were upset would be a mild interpretation of their outbursts. As far as her parents knew, Hermione had never been anything but truthful and honest with them. Discovering that their only child had taken it upon herself to make decisions about their welfare disturbed and, frankly, scared them. It was beyond the threat of Voldemort and their safety, though; time and again her mum kept repeating that the very action of choosing the actions that would keep them alive hurt more than anything. _

"_Until your life has been dictated by someone else, you'll never truly know what we're feeling," Jane Granger spat at her daughter during one of the earliest conversations in Australia._

_They hadn't known at the time that their daughter knew all too well the feeling of having the happiness and course of her life altered by something outside of her control. The life she envisioned in the few short months before she found them had been both the best and most crushing of her life. A happiness she never knew she was missing, suddenly thrust itself into her life when she, Harry, and Ron made their camp in the Eastern European countryside. For those few days, nothing compared to the excitement, thrill, and joy she felt._

_Until Jane was awoken in the early hours by her daughter's morning sickness, it seemed as though their relationship was never to be fixed. But, the bond between them began to mend._

Smiling at Bill's question and thoughtfulness, she answered, "Mum and dad are doing really well. But what you're probably wanting to ask is who is the adorable little man I brought with me."

At their silent nods, she began to introduce him. "This is Alexei . . ."

"Hermione! Good to see you again." Arthur's warm welcome preceded his familiar face. He looked just as he had the last time Hermione saw him, except his hair was a bit thinner.

Once Arthur and Molly settled into the worn recliners closest to the fireplace, a silence descended upon the room again. Their eyes held questions that none felt comfortable asking with such small ears in the room. It was Fred and George who leapt, literally, into action.

"Hey Alex, you wanna join us outside? We can chase the gnomes?" Fred's question held the excitement that was contagious to the three year old boy.

"Can I mummy?" Pleading brown eyes met Hermione's.

Looking over her son's head, she told Fred and George, "Don't let him get bitten; I remember those gnomes getting aggravated pretty fast. And, keep an eye on him, he disappears quickly." Her smile, though, let the twins know that she trusted them with her son.

"Yay!" chorus three voices as Alex trotted after the red-heads.

"So, Hermione . . ." Ron began.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! This story may have a familiar feel to other things I've written in the past. I have about 10,000 words written so far and will be updating as finished and polished chapters are ready. Reviews make me smile :) so I'd love to hear from you!_

_~Clover_


	2. Hermione's Past

_Author's Note: Thank you for the kind, lovely, and encouraging reviews - they did make me smile as I mentioned at the end of the last chapter. Some of you wonderful reviewers are very much on-track with insights into Alex's father, so kudos to you :) I must confess that the cranky review referring to me as "foul and loathsome" actually made me laugh in its absurdity! Now, onto the next chapter._

* * *

**The Long and Winding Road**

**by Clover Bay**

_Summary: War and peace, love and loss . . Hermione's return to wizarding Britain has been marred by both. More than three years since travelling to Australia to find her parents, she comes back to the Burrow with her young son. For Hermione, she seeks to reconnect with her old life and find happiness once more._

_Disclaimer: All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling. No infringement is intended._

**Chapter 2 - Hermione's Past**

"Alex's story began in those final months of the war. Actually, the days before we were taken to Malfoy Manner."

Ron gripped the sofa's armrest tightly; the mere mention of that horrible night made him tense and angry. Harry scooted to the edge of his seat, head bowed and hands clasped tightly together. Hermione knew he was internally berating himself for having spoken Voldemort's name that night. She'd hoped he could forgive himself, though mentioning it as abruptly as she had probably triggered those lingering memories.

Speaking directly to her two dearest friends, she said quietly, as if they were the only ones who could hear her words, "I know there are parts of those months we agreed to never talk about, and I don't intend to break that vow now. But, there are things that haven't been told that pertain to me. And, well, Alex. Things that neither of you would have known about."

She waited for their recognition, which she received immediately from Ron, his blue eyes connecting with hers. It was as if he was trying to convey their camaraderie and friendship with that one look. Harry raised his head, nodding slightly as he began watching her intently.

Addressing the room at large, Hermione resumed her story. "When we were searching for Voldemort's horcruxes, we were constantly on the move." The Weasleys looked ready for her to continue, having already heard the general story of the trio's attempts to win the war.

"We ended up camping in Bulgaria, on the outskirts of Viktor Krum's landed estate. He told us that he felt the wards shift when we entered, and then again when I enacted the protective spells we used at night.

"It had been so long since we had seen one another . . ." she trailed off, thinking of that night and picturing it so clearly.

_The nights on the run always seemed disproportionately long compared to their time spent searching for the horcruxes. Harry, Ron, and Hermione's brainstorming had long been exhausted, but that night one of them suggested that they continue their search in Eastern Europe. Having combed through the English countryside more times than they cared to count, moving to the site of Voldemort's initial return seemed logical. If the dim-witted Bertha Jorkins could stumble upon him, then surely they could find traces left from his hiding._

_Casting the wards around their tent that first night, Hermione felt an unusual back-lash that made her arm tingle. Within moments, a tall, cloaked figure strode into the cordoned off area with his wand drawn. Hermione reacted first as the guys were busy hoisting the tent and securing it. The three were bound so quickly that they ended up laying in a heap on the cold ground._

_No sooner than they were captured, they were suddenly freed. Having pushed the hood of his cloak down, the moonlight revealed Viktor Krum to be standing with his wand now relaxed at his side._

_Hermione ran into his arms, holding him tightly. "Viktor, Viktor, Viktor." The relief of having a friendly face stumble upon them rather than a pack of Death Eaters made her whole body seem to droop. Her shoulders dropped, and even her knees bent slightly as the rush of adrenaline wore off and exhaustion returned._

"_It is so good to find you." He hugged her closer, wrapping his arms like a shield around her emaciated body. "You must come with me, stay inside tonight."_

_She agreed without acknowledging Harry or Ron. The altered plan offered a solid floor and roof, properly prepared food, and, most importantly to Hermione, Viktor._ _The months of separation left her desperate, clinging to him._

_That began the first of nearly a week spent with Viktor as they resumed their search for the horcruxes._

"Hermione."

She let the memories recede when she heard Fred and George simultaneously call her name.

"Hey Hermione, can we take Alex flying? We just want to circle above the pond . . ."

"And the orchard . . ."

"And the house . . ."

"And . . ."

Hermione interrupted them, remembering how long a split conversation between the two could last. "Only if you use a sticking charm; I don't want him falling off. And he has so sit in front of you, not behind."

They turned see Alex grinning. Flying was one of his most favorite things to do.

"So, I wonder if Alex can fly?" Fred asked George mischievously. But, before they could continue their banter, Alex interrupted them.

"Course I can fly. I'm a Krum." Alex said with as much authority as a three year old can convey. "All Krum's can fly, right mummy?"

"That's right, sweetie. All Krum's can fly."

Everyone, aside from Hermione and Alex, wore expressions of shock at this revelation. Fred and George had missed the entire conversation while they were outside chasing gnomes with Alex. The others had put the pieces of the story together, but it held much more weight when Hermione confirmed the identity of Alex's father.

It was Molly who moved toward Hermione once Alex and twins left the room again. With a warm embrace, she hugged Hermione tightly. After all, it was common knowledge that Viktor Krum was dead.

**OoOoOoO**

The two women made their way to the kitchen where Molly poured them each a fresh cup of tea. The others remained in the living room, and Hermione was sure she, Viktor, and Alex were the topic of hushed conversations that had probably been quieted by a charm from one of them.

Sitting at the table with a warm cup to occupy her hands comforted Hermione somewhat. Talking face-to-face with only one other person would much easier than discussing Viktor with the room at large. And, while she dearly loved each person sitting in the adjacent room, explaining her relationship with Viktor would be much easier with only one pair of eyes resting on her.

Hermione wasn't so naive as to believe that the others wouldn't be listening, though. In fact, if she were to turn toward the door, the chances were very high that multiple flesh-colored strings would be trailing across the doorway and well into the kitchen area. She truly wanted to include the Weasleys in the secrets of her life these past years, well most of them anyway. Molly proved to be the best person with whom to share, especially after their lengthy letters that had evolved, in Hermione's opinion, into a friendship that lent itself to their current discussion.

Thinking back to the years she spent in both friendship and love with Viktor, Hermione began to describe her life with Viktor, omitting the more intimate details, of course . . .

_The world of Hogwarts knew that Viktor asked her to the Yule Ball the year of the Triwizard Tournament. What they weren't aware of was that Viktor had to chase Hermione, asking her repeatedly to accompany him. So few guys at Hogwarts had noticed her as anything but a brainy friend, that she was sure the handsome Durmstrang student and quidditch player must be playing some kind of cruel joke. But, night after night of seeing him brave the twittering throngs of girls to sit near Hermione began to change her opinion; he did nothing but pretend to read while looking over the top of his book to gaze at the girl who had exhibited kindness to those she passed in the halls and help that poor, pudgy boy who couldn't seem to walk in a straight line_ _without falling over. He later told her that he admired her strength at not backing away when the blonde-haired jerk (his words) would push his petty prejudices. She would later confide that she, too, spent much of her time in those weeks staring at him discretely. _

_What began for Hermione as flattery at being sincerely sought after as Viktor's date for the ball soon evolved into a sweet puppy love. He would walk her through the corridors to class, hold the doors open for her as they entered or exited the castle, and sat with her and the boys during meals at the Gryffindor house table. She was, frankly, overwhelmed by his attention. The first time he kissed her check left her blushing for the better part of the afternoon, including potions class, though Harry, Ron, and the others assumed it heat of the bubbling caldrons was the source of the redness._

_At the end of the school term, it felt like a newly-formed piece of her was being pulled away. When Viktor asked permission to write to her over the summer, she was thrilled. The old-world charm that was evident to her even then stole another piece of her heart. The letters they exchanged introduced her to more of his real life outside of confines of school; he sent scrolls of parchment in every city in which he played that summer. _

Hermione stared wistfully out the kitchen window, the yellow curtains having been left open. She saw the twins and Alex drifting by as they slowly flew above the pond. Lost in her thoughts, she missed Ron and Harry entering the room. It wasn't until Ron spoke that she became aware of their presence.

"I don't think I've apologized for my behavior that night; there were just so many people suggesting that Viktor was using you that I started to believe it."

"Oh, Ron. It was never like that . . ."

"I know, I know. It just took me a while to figure it out." He looked sheepishly at the table, tracing indiscernible designs onto the table cloth. "But when I did, I made sure everyone else knew it, too."

"What do you mean?" Hermione's curiosity derailed her from her earlier conversation.

"He means," Harry answered, "that he made it a personal mission to, um, 'correct' anyone who tried to tarnish your reputation."

"You didn't?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"Well, I couldn't just let people say things that weren't true about you." The tips of Ron's ears reddened at his admission.

"Thank you." Hermione wanted to thank him for coming around and understanding, but she wasn't sure how well he really understood; she wanted to thank him for protecting her reputation, but it didn't seem appropriate after so many years. Mostly, she was just thankful for having Ron's friendship.

_Though their letters continued beyond the summer, it wasn't until Christmas break that she saw Viktor in person again. That fated weekend where she, the Weasleys, and Harry holed up in Grimmauld Place to await news of Mr. Weasley after the attack at the Ministry were nerve-wracking. After their initial visit to the hospital, Hermione stayed behind when the others returned. On one afternoon, she saw a familiar form enter the kitchen; his short, dark hair and deep brown eyes were unmistakable. Standing across the room was none other than Viktor. Her Viktor._

_She ran around the circumference of the table, colliding into him as he met her. The tender kiss he placed on her forehead seemed to magnify the feelings she'd been harboring for him. Speaking from the muffled vantage point of Viktor's chest, Hermione asked wonderingly, but happily, "What are you doing here?"_

"_I could ask you the same thing, except I've already been informed of the newest inhabitants of the Order's headquarters." Viktor shared more in those few words than he would have been allowed through direct questions. The oath taken by the Order of the Phoenix's members prevented such information from being transferred._

"_Really? And you're still able to play and not be detected?" Hermione's eyes were shining with a mixture of happiness at seeing Viktor and relief at the confirmation that they were fighting alongside one another, even though Hermione wasn't officially allowed to declare her allegiance to the Order._

_Their relationship changed over the remainder of Christmas break. Mundane and trivial matters gave way to more pressing issues that they were privy to, namely Voldemort and the work of the Order. He confided that Charlie Weasley had recruited him after the Triwizard Tournament. The two met when Viktor played quidditch in Romania. A brief reintroduction, based first on the dragon task of the tournament, led to further meetings, culminating in Charlie bringing Viktor to Dumbledore to be inducted into the Order._

_He reassured Hermione that he wasn't in too much danger with his current assignment. And, against the protocol established by the Order, Viktor explained that he was given the daunting task of collecting information from foreign wizards who seemed to help bankroll the Death Eaters' activities. Through his connections as an international athlete, he already identified which of the Durmstrang school governors who had been funneling a portion of the tuition paid by its students to Voldemort's cause._ _He had further leads, but didn't have any concrete information as of yet._

_Viktor's last visit to Grimmauld Place during her winter break left Hermione's lips tingling with their first real kiss. It was soft and sweet, yet purposeful and . . and . . amazing. She had no other words for it. The anticipation that had been building throughout their meetings over the fortnight had been satisfied, fortified for the coming months that would separate them._

_After the Death Eaters' ambush and attack at the Ministry of Magic, Viktor managed to visit her in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. He held her throughout the night, rubbing her back gently when she would wake with a night terror of the day's events. He felt her tears soak through his shirt as she cried for the others' injuries and pain caused at the hands of Voldemort's minions. Together, they promised to do all that was in their power to rid the world of them all . . she helping Harry, him helping the Order. That night the war drew even closer to their hearts._

_The next morning he formally met her parents; any awkward introductions at being found holding their daughter dissolved when their relief at seeing her healthy overshadowed his position. Plans were soon made to spend a portion of her summer break together, with Hermione and her parents visiting Bulgaria._

Hermione was interrupted by the swinging of the back door as it clanged noisily into the doorstop when Alex came to alert his mum that he was hungry.

"Why don't we ask Mrs. Weasley if she has any biscuits?" Hermione suggested after a quick look at Molly.

"Mrs. Wee . ." Alex shook his head, knowing that wasn't right. "Mrs. Weely, um, Mrs. . . Mrs. Chaw-ley's mum?"

Hermione smothered her laugh. "Yes, Alex, it is Charlie's mum."

Molly couldn't hide her own smile. "Yes dear, you can have a snack. Come with me."

The others, now a table full of Weasleys and Harry, exchanged curious looks at Alex's familiarity with Charlie and Hermione's ease at speaking about him.

* * *

_And, that's all for chapter 2! I hope you are enjoying the story so far. I'll be out of town for a few days, but I'd love to return to find reviews in my in-box :)_

_~Clover_


	3. The Past and the Present

_Author's Note: Thanks for the awesome reviews! I'm trying to show Hermione and Viktor's story, which is complicated by war and distance and youth. They were very much in love, and their story hopefully will showcase this. But, this will evolve into Hermione's new life in the post-war world. _

* * *

**The Long and Winding Road**

**by Clover Bay**

**Chapter 3 - The Past and the Present**

Alex crawled into Hermione's lap after he finished his snack, rubbing his eyes tiredly. In a matter of minutes, he was asleep and being taken to one of the bedrooms upstairs. When she returned to the kitchen, Hermione busied herself at the sink before sitting next to Ron once again.

"You're welcome, by the way." Ron's smirk softened into a sad smile.

Hermione bumped her shoulder into his. "You were a great friend that year. Viktor always asked me to thank you, in every letter he sent that term." She sniffled, taking a moment to compose herself.

_Viktor's missions for the Order became more dangerous the longer he searched for the monies behind the Death Eaters' activities. By the fall of her sixth year, he had identified the largest bankroll for Voldemort. Petrovich, the International Quidditch League's most prominent racing broom supplier, had been paying a generous tribute to further the agenda of the Death Eaters. As discretely as possible, Viktor had been steering the league away from their brand. It was no coincidence that Petrovich created two new, elite brooms in such a short period of time. The teams might have relied on the broom manufacturer, but the league valued Viktor's name and contributions much more. Numerous letters to Hermione conveyed that he couldn't get away from Bulgaria for the weekend because he needed extra practice to hone his skills on the lesser quality Legacy broom models. He couldn't risk the chance that anyone would find that his displeasure with Petrovich was anything other than quidditch related._

_He'd also become concerned that their relationship might further endanger them, Hermione in particular. They constructed a plan for her peers, and the school-age Death Eaters' children, to believe that she was single rather than attached to Viktor. Ron happily obliged as the 'friend who might be something more', as he was portrayed to the rest of Hogwarts. This freed Hermione to write to Viktor and 'seek advice from Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall'; this ruse allowed her to meet with him on evenings in which the Order was scheduled to convene. Often, this would be the only times in which they would see one another._

_But, they didn't live in constant fear, rather with a heightened sense of alertness. Viktor proved to be particularly romantic in September when he received permission to take Hermione into muggle London for dinner. Coming of age in the wizarding world held a special place each witch and wizard's life, and Viktor wanted her to have a wonderful seventeenth birthday. It was as they left the elegant Italian restaurant that Viktor finally worked up the courage so say those three words that they both felt, one of which she attached to the signature of his letters and he returned when addressing hers. She melted into him the first time he said 'I love you.' It was said with tenderness and conviction; he sounded more sure in his quiet enunciation of those words than she had ever heard him sound before. No doubt could ever be placed in her mind about the authenticity and genuine feelings for her. _

_Later, the Christmas holidays for Hermione coincided with the International Quidditch League's winter break. Having met Viktor the previous year, and knowing how much he meant to their only daughter, Hermione's parents invited him to spend a week as a guest in their home. Not wanting to disrespect her parents, Viktor exhibited an even greater amount of propriety while staying with them. That both frustrated and delighted Hermione. His old-world charm and gentlemanly upbringing shone through, impressing both of her parents. It wasn't until the last hours of the evening that they would find themselves alone in the living room, snuggled together and watching the lights twinkle on the Christmas tree. He held her close, but refrained from doing anything that would embarrass them if it had to be suddenly explained to her parents. Just holding her, though, gave them more physical contact than they had been allowed due to their distance apart. When he held her hand, or kissed her goodnight, his eyes would meet hers, silently showing her how happy he was._

_Viktor managed to convince Hermione's parents to let her spend Christmas evening with his family in Bulgaria. She wasn't sure what to expect from his pure-blooded parents, whom she was sure were steeped in traditions passed on for generations. However, she discovered that his mama and papa were as soft-spoken as him; they were warm and welcoming, each giving Hermione smothering hugs of greeting as she crossed the threshold of their home. The smells of spiced cider and ginger biscuits added to the comfortable, homey feeling of their farm house. Viktor teased them about moving into a newer, more modern home somewhere closer to the city, but they scoffed at his offer as flashy and a waste of his money when they had a perfectly nice home. And, Hermione couldn't agree more. Viktor's obvious wink in her direction let the room know that he was all too aware of the useless offer. In fact, he agreed that not every house could be made into a home; the memories that permeated the small rooms of his parents home were more valuable than the gold in his vaults._

_Before they left, Viktor pulled Hermione away from his parents to give her a special Christmas gift. A white-gold bracelet with round, looping links was the most delicate piece of jewelry she'd ever seen. A pink, flower charm hung securely from one of the links, swinging gently. _

"_For my beautiful English Rose," Viktor whispered as he fastened it around her wrist. With a kiss to the top of the hand he still held, he continued, "You are the first woman I have loved; the first I've brought to meet my mama and papa. Hermione, I love you more than I can say in English."_

_She wanted to giggle at his reference to his evolving mastery of her language. The sentiment, though, silenced her. After another long look at his gift, she lifted her eyes to meet his. "And, I love you, Viktor. Whenever I look down, this beautiful bracelet will remind me of you, of us . . and our time together here."_

**OoOoOoO**

"Knock, Knock." Charlie's voice preceded his appearance into the kitchen.

Several of his brothers rose and shook his hand, happy to see him again. It had been months since he had been around during a vacation period; usually he was claiming that work was just too busy for him to get away.

The normally boisterous Molly watched Charlie's eyes connect with Hermione's rather than run to greet him. They were having a silent conversation that went unnoticed by the others. It was interesting to see so much conveyed; it reminded her of Arthur and herself . . . . But she, too, welcomed him with a warm hug and the admonishment that it had been too long since his last visit.

Hermione met Charlie's eyes as he rounded the door frame and came inside. He had been waiting until late afternoon to come home. They had discussed her sharing the news of Alex, and she wanted time to catch his family up on the past few years before they continued any further.

It was evident from her shining, watery eyes that Hermione had been remembering, and probably talking about, the last few months of the war. Without saying a word, Charlie understood that she wasn't finished, that she needed more time to explain Viktor's death. He was about to ask about Alex when the room heard "mummy" called from upstairs.

Hermione excused herself, reappearing moments later with a wide-awake Alex. His hair was sticking up in the back where it had been mussed from sleep. He was chattering about his 'sleep room' with the dragon posters on the walls; it was the obvious choice of rooms because she knew he would be comfortable and at ease when he woke from his nap.

When Alex heard Charlie talking with Molly and the others, he craned his neck around looking for the familiar voice. "Chaw-ly!" He wiggled until Hermione let him down and he wove among the tall legs between him and Charlie until he was standing, tugging on Charlie's pant-legs.

"Hey there, little man. Looks like you've been flying today," Charlie said while smoothing his hand over Alex's crazy hair.

"Yeah! They," he pointed to the twins, "went with me." His bright smile made all of the adults in the room grin.

"Hmm, I bet you're tired of flying then," Charlie goaded the small boy, knowing Alex would ask to go flying again.

"No! I'm ready to go." He looked scandalized at the thought that anyone would want to miss out on flying. "Now?" he asked Charlie before searching for his mum.

"Anybody else want to go flying with us?" Charlie asked his brothers and dad.

None of the adults missed the diversion Charlie was creating. For whatever reason, he was trying to give Hermione and his mum time alone. Nodding their heads in agreement, the men left the kitchen.

On the way out the door, Fred could be heard saying, "Wonder why she didn't remind Charlie to use a sticking charm . . . ."

Sighing, Hermione returned to her seat at the well-worn wooden table. "Molly, there are so many things . . . and I know Charlie has just brought more . . . ."

"Take your time, dear." Molly gently pat Hermione's arm as it lay resting on the table.

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_Thank you for reading the latest chapter! _


	4. Such Joy, Such Pain

_Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews thus far! We made a quick trip recently and will be moving this week, so my return correspondence has been very much lacking. I appreciate your reviews and comments, and hope to respond back in the near future. ~Clover :)_

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**The Long and Winding Road**

**by Clover Bay**

**Chapter 4 - Such Joy, Such Pain**

"It was the summer of Bill and Fleur's wedding . . ."

_Hermione knew Viktor would be attending the summer wedding. One of the more ingenious ideas he initiated was finding a way to converse without drawing too much attention from anyone else. Hermione never doubted Viktor's intellectual talents; when others scoffed at his entrance in the Tri-wizard Tournament as a fluke of braun rather than brains, she listened as he planned multiple tactics for overcoming the challenges the tournament presented. This time, he used his ingenuity to devise a plan to communicate in plain sight. _

_Buried deep within the thick Daily Prophet newspaper, between the 'items-for-sale' and 'lost-niffler' advertisements were the virtually hidden want-ads. Viktor created a moniker to identify himself when he submitted a message to Hermione, seeking some variation of English Roses. She, in turn, would be searching for bon-bons of the highest quality. Their arrangement, which cost pittance and required no additional personal information, would be posted in the paper for one day and then removed._

_Viktor's most recent advertisement read, "Wanted, English roses in full bloom, periwinkle in color."_

_She caught the reference to her beautiful blue dress from their first real date all of those years ago at Hogwarts and the date of the summer solstice. Fleur wanted to have the greatest amount of daylight to celebrate her special day, so Hermione guessed that he was associating that day as being in 'full bloom'. And, she was correct._

_From her seat near the Weasleys, she could see Viktor's handsome form. She was tempted to stare, itching to sit beside him and hold his hand in hers. She restrained herself, though, and settled for quick glances and wondering about the possibilities of a day like this of her own._

_Their dances following the ceremony were far too brief. Being held so closely, breathing in the masculine aroma of Viktor's aftershave mixed with his cologne, and hearing his deep, rumbling voice whispering in her ears left her lost to the audience around them. _

_They stole away from the others, walking in the dimly lit yard surrounding the white-tented area. It was in those moments that she confided, in its entirely, the quest that she, Harry, and Ron were embarking upon the next day. _

"_It must be done, we can't let Voldemort continue like this," she said quietly while looking up into his deep brown eyes._

"_I know, love," he sighed resignedly. "And I will finish my part." _

"_And you have new leads?"_

"_Ya." Viktor pulled her tighter into his chest. "And I will be closer than ever to the Death Eaters, probably too close. But, as you said, it must be done."_

_Fireflies chased one another near the wooded area in front of them. She heard and felt Viktor's heart beating beneath her ear that was pressed to his chest. Everything was about to change and she wanted to hold onto these moments for as long as possible, imprint them into her mind forever. There was no way of knowing when she would see him again._

_Lifting her chin, he lowered his lips to hers. _

"_I love you."_

"_And I love you."_

_After the Death Eaters interrupted Bill and Fleur's wedding reception and Hermione, Harry, and Ron escaped, she and Viktor fell back to their newspaper correspondence. Now, however, they left messages for an entire week at a time as neither knew how often the other would have access to the paper._

_It wasn't until spring that she and Viktor met again. While she and the guys were moving their search for Voldemort's horcruxes deeper into the mainland, they began tracing old and nearly forgotten traces of the Slytherin heir. As she cast the wards around their tent, the protective spells reacted differently than they ever had before. Little did she know, but they had chosen to camp on the outskirts of Viktor's land in Bulgaria._

_Having only visited the castle during the day, Hermione was in shock at Viktor's sudden arrival. It took only seconds for relief to flood within her; her emotions had traveled from lethargy during their fruitless hunt, to alarm and fear at someone discovering them, to a weight-lifting joy at seeing Viktor._

_Ignoring the questioning looks from Harry and the slightly confused expression on Ron's face, Hermione clung to Viktor and accepted his offer to stay with him. It took only a short time to direct the guys to guest rooms before Viktor took Hermione to his master suite on the highest level of the castle. Lovingly, he sat her on the bed. Concern was etched on his face as he gently brushed her hair from her face, but the dirt and grime from her long absence from civilization couldn't keep him from kissing her passionately._

"_I have missed you so much," she breathed between kisses._

_Sinking down to his knees, Viktor looked lovingly into her eyes and asked the question that she least expected, the one that she never imagined possible with them caught in the height of the war. _

"_I love you so much, Hermione. My heart has been so heavy with you away from me. When I am called by the Order or am on a mission to derail the Death Eaters, I come home longing to see you, to tell you of my successes, and ask for help with the struggles. There is no way to know how long the war will last. But, I know that my love for you will remain. So, for however long this war continues, and for however long we live to fight and celebrate our victories, I want to have you as my wife. Hermione, the first and only woman I have ever loved, will you marry me?" _

_They eloped in the middle of the night. For the first time since their journey began, Hermione was absent from Harry and Ron's planning for the upcoming search. Instead, she and Viktor secluded themselves, surfacing only to collect food from the kitchen before returning to his rooms._

_At week's end, Hermione reluctantly said goodbye to Viktor. It was sad, but necessary as they both wanted to find an end to the war._

_Hermione redoubled her efforts to help Harry defeat Voldemort after the secret ceremony. Concluding the war would be the only way to live in peace. Unfortunately, those efforts resulted in being captured and tortured by Bellatrix LeStrange at Malfoy Manner. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind as she tried to be strong. One fleeting thought emerged before she passed out - that she was 'late'._

_Waking to Fleur's ministrations, Hermione tried to push her hands away, resisting the potions being offered to her. In a moment of clarity, Fleur realized that Hermione was lucid; shooing Bill and Ron out of the room, she used her wand to cast the definitive spell. In a motherly tone that Hermione had never heard from the French woman, Fleur convinced Hermione that it would be better for both her and the baby if she was strong and she accepted the modified version of the pain and healing potions._

_While they longed to see one another again, Viktor physically cringed at the condition that he found his lovely wife in when Charlie and Bill Weasley contacted and brought him to Shell Cottage. _

"He looked as broken as I felt. His lower lip quivered, like he was fighting back tears when he came into the room that night." Hermione spoke quietly as she remembered her proud husband's stance seemingly shrink, shoulders slumped and moving slowly as though he had been the one tortured.

_Through the semi-darkened room, Hermione watched Viktor near her bed._ _Her mind was willing her tired body to reach out to him but her arm resisted. Her limbs felt like lead, too heavy to move. _

_As he perched on the tiniest edge of the bed, she felt him gently lift the hand nearest to him, her left hand. His callused hand softly rubbed around her ring finger, undoubtedly thinking of the few days in which they each wore their wedding bands before securing them in a locked trunk in Viktor's rooms. It had been too dangerous for either of them to suddenly be found with such revealing jewelry. Viktor's foresight undoubtedly kept their marriage private since it would have only spurred Bellatrix LeStrange further into her crazed torture._

_When Hermione woke from a sleep she didn't remember entering, some of her strength had returned. Her eyes met his as she gave him her best smile. Even that hurt, but she wanted to show that she appreciated his presence. _

_Slowly, he brought a basin of warm water and cloth to her side and began to wash her, gingerly lifting her arms, wiping carefully down the length of her legs. She watched the muscles in his arms contract as he used his considerable strength to raise her body, with his large hand cradling her head, to run the cool rag along the back of her neck. His gentleness and devotion heartened her; soon she was holding onto him, leaning into his solid chest._

_They whispered their love for one another. He said over and over how sorry he was that she had been hurt and he'd been unable to do anything about it._

"_Viktor, I'm alright," Hermione soothed when she felt his body begin to tremble. She wasn't okay, but she would be. And, at the sound of Viktor's tears, she knew reassurance was what he needed most. Very rarely had she seen a man cry, and never Viktor. It tore at her heart to hear him in pain, even though it was out of worry and concern for her rather than himself._

_After a few minutes, Viktor composed himself and they laid in bed together. He held her closely, though with a loose grip so as not to hurt her tired body._

_In the midst of a long stretch of silence, Hermione began to speak quietly. "Viktor, do you remember the week we spent with you at the castle?"_

_He couldn't help but grin at her timid question. Of course he remembered. Marrying the love his life wasn't easy to forget. Their honeymoon . . now thoughts of those days and nights brought out a full blown smile. "How could I forget, Mrs. Krum?"_

_She smiled at his use of her new name, though she blushed when he continued._

"_Is it perhaps that 'you' have forgotten and need me to refresh your memory when you regain your strength?"_

_His teasing caused her face to flush brightly. A week with her husband had hardly been enough time to be fully comfortable with the playfulness and inuendo that she knew would come with time. Glancing up at him, she managed to say, "Um, well, yes, perhaps. No! I mean I haven't forgotten, it's just . . ." He cut off her nervous ramblings with a kiss that left her momentarily wondering what they had been discussing._

_His quiet voice rumbled lowly as he reminded her of the initial question._

"_Viktor," she took his hand in hers, "I'm pregnant."_

_The shock at her words stunned him. His mind was whirling, thought after thought competing for attention as flashes of their honeymoon drifted into the horrors he imagined from Malfoy Manner; those thoughts led to panic and fear for their unborn child; then, a beautiful image pushed the others aside, one where their small family was safely tucked away in the castle that they would call home once this terrible war ended._

"_Viktor . . Viktor . ." Hermione tried several times to get his attention. It wasn't until she moved his hand to lay on her stomach that he was roused._

_All of the emotions that were coursing through him burst forth as his lips collided with hers. He vowed to Hermione and their newest Krum that he would do all in his power to make a safer world for him. Him. Even with the news of Hermione's pregnancy only moments old, Viktor laid claim to their child, referring to him in the masculine form._

_They drifted in and out of sleep, spending their waking moments dreaming of their future._

"When we left Shell Cottage, I didn't know when I'd see him again," Hermione sniffled as she remembered Viktor.

"That was the day of the Battle of Hogwarts, wasn't it?" Molly asked.

"Those days all seemed to run together. Breaking into Gringotts, finding our way back to Hogwarts, all of it is a blur."

_As they left the room of Requirement and the Order began to converge on Hogwarts' castle, there were tides of people passing in the hallways. From the third floor corridor, Hermione saw a sea of red moving up the nearest staircase. Dressed in their Durmstrang capes, Viktor led the Bulgarians as they prepared to throw themselves into the battle. Their target - the Death Eaters approaching from the West._

_Viktor and Hermione met, only once, passing in the corridor while moving in opposite directions. Their eyes conveyed what their voices couldn't with the noise surrounding them. This brief moment of connection was followed by Viktor lovingly placing his hand on her stomach; the tiniest bulge that he would have been hard-pressed to find, lay cradled tenderly by his strong hand. The kiss, their last, was full of more words than could be expressed in a lifetime. Turning quickly, he led his Durmstrang brothers to secure protection for them all._

_When the proverbial dust began to settle, Hermione took little time to rest. She had to find him. Viktor . . ._

_Then, she saw the red of his cape, the one that he'd wrapped around her bare shoulders the night of the Yule Ball those years ago, the one that heartened her when she knew he would be helping to defeat Voldemort, the one that now covered his lifeless body in the Great Hall_.

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_Author's Note: When I originally created this story, I considered making it a truly Hermione/Viktor story; this was a very difficult chapter to write because I've never written character death before. If you're interested in a different version of these events, you can check out the "Crimson Red" story on my profile. You'll find it very similar to this one so far, but with one notable exception._

_As always, reviews are much appreciated! _


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